


A Game You're Gonna Lose

by Serendipityy



Series: Dark Paradise [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coercion, Comeplay, Conditioning, Controlling Behaviour, Dark Harry, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominance, Emotional Manipulation, Facials, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humiliation, M/M, Manipulation, Name-Calling, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Slut Shaming, implied future somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serendipityy/pseuds/Serendipityy
Summary: Harry wants control. He's going to take it, whether Malfoy likes it or not.





	A Game You're Gonna Lose

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something dark that's been lurking in the back of my mind for a while and I decided to finally write it. This is not my main writing account and this series will probably be the only thing I post here.  
> Read the warnings before proceeding!  
> Fic title taken from the song Lies by Marina and the Diamonds. Series name taken from the Lana Del Rey song.  
> Thank you to the Filthy Slut who beta'd this for me <3 Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Sometimes, Harry looks at himself in his bathroom mirror and thinks if he tilts his head just so, and squints his eyes, he can actually see the broken parts of himself reflected back at him. He can certainly feel them, buried just below the surface. He knows he's different now, knows something happened to him that night when he died, and at first it had scared him. He hadn't recognised the man looking back at him, hadn't known what to do with the thoughts that crept through his consciousness. He'd felt guilty, embarrassed, by the things in his head. He'd considered going to his friends, asking for help, but he hadn't wanted to burden them, and looking back now he was glad he hadn't.

Something indefinable was definitely broken inside him, maybe beyond repair, but when Harry had finally given into the thoughts, had let himself go and felt just how good it was to succumb to what he was craving, he realised that being broken wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Being broken opened him up a whole new world, a world the old Harry would never have been brave enough to enter. The old Harry thought he was strong, but he hadn't known, not really. He'd had no clue what it felt like, how indescribably incredible it felt to have power. _power_.

He knows how it is to be used, to be a pawn in someone else's game. And since giving in to the whispers in his mind, he knows he'll never let that happen to him again. He knows the difference now, and he knows the only thing that can make him happy is to be the one in control.

If this was the price he had to pay, if breaking was the secret to finding the strength it took to embrace the darkness in his mind and be alright with it, then so be it.

Of course, he isn't mad. He isn't a violent dictator intent on ruling the world like Voldemort had been. No, Harry doesn't want to rule everyone. All he needs to find the satisfaction he craves is to rule _one_ person. One person to obey him, to do as he says and to make him feel as though he has complete control. The world went mad when he killed Voldemort, mad with hero worship. Harry isn't a hero, he knows that, but he plays along with it. He speaks to the newspapers and says the right things, and the wizarding world loves him for it. He doesn't deserve it, but Harry has realised the importance of appearances; just because he's accepted the dark way his mind works doesn't mean the rest of the world will, and since deciding what it is he wants now, it's more important than ever to keep his public image as clean as possible.

He discovered his love of having someone submit to him in a Muggle club just before he came back to school for his eighth year. He'd gone home with a man, and the whispers in his head had become bellows as he'd pushed the stranger down onto his bed. Harry had surrendered to them voices egging him on, and he had told that man exactly what he was to do for him, and when the man hesitated, when he told Harry he wasn't sure, Harry had persuaded him, had convinced him to give in and do as he was told.

Since then, he's used every opportunity to learn more about himself, about what he likes and what he can make men do for him. Sometimes he pushes them too far. Sometimes they don't like it. Harry discovered he likes this best, when he can see that they want to stop but they're too scared to say no to him. After all, anyone can get a willing participant to do something for them, but to have someone obey when they don't want to? That's real power, real control.

He uses his name and his influence to leave the school whenever he pleases, to go and seek out conquests, but recently it hasn't been enough. He doesn't want to have to start from scratch every time. He wants to see how far he can push someone, how far he can exert his control over someone somewhere other than in their bed.

He hadn't considered Malfoy at first, but now he's not really sure why it wasn't his very first thought the day they got back to school and found out they had been roomed together. Malfoy is fucking gorgeous and Harry has jerked off thinking about his mouth and his arse more times than he can count in the last few weeks.

It was an accident that Harry stumbled on the idea. He hadn't paid much attention to Malfoy since coming back to school, had other things on his mind and hadn't given much thought to what Malfoy was doing here or what he was up to. Then, he'd overheard Malfoy talking to a Ravenclaw girl in the library, apologising for the things that had happened to her family. He'd sounded so unhappy, so sorry, so _desperate_ for her forgiveness, and then relieved when she gave it, and that was all it took for the seed to be planted in Harry's mind.

He started to watch Malfoy again, started following him around, coming up with a plan as he learned that Malfoy was desperate for redemption. He wanted to earn people's forgiveness, wanted to prove himself, to make people happy. He also noticed Malfoy's interest in Harry's extra attention, and it didn't take long for Harry to work out Malfoy was attracted to him.

It's honestly all too perfect, and it takes all Harry's willpower not to act too soon, to build things up slowly, because he doesn't want this to be a one off. He needs to make sure that once he draws Malfoy in, he has no way out.

And so Harry has been encouraging his feelings. A small secret smile here, a lingering touch there. He bites his lip and looks away demurely when he catches Malfoy staring. Malfoy thinks Harry shares his attraction, probably thinks there's some sort of blossoming romance between them, but Harry doesn't want romance.

The longer he waits, the more obsessed he becomes. He wants Malfoy to be the one he tests his limits with, to be right there, readily available in the next bed whenever Harry wants him. He wants to use him, to see if he can break him, to make him _Harry's_ and no one else's.

And Malfoy? Well, Malfoy is just so damn eager to please now, so eager to be forgiven for his indiscretions. Harry honestly doesn't hold anything against him - he spoke for him and his mother after all, and is the reason they're not in Azkaban - but Harry decides it's better not to tell Malfoy that, better to keep him desperate to earn Harry's forgiveness too. Harry will use that if he has too, to get Malfoy to bend to his will.

Malfoy will be glad to be used by him, Harry thinks. He's a bit broken too, and he's always had someone more powerful than him taking charge. He'll be glad to have that back in his life, for Harry to be the one to give it to him. He'll fight it at first, but that's what Harry wants. He wants to know he made him.

It all makes sense, in a twisted, poetic sort of way; he and Malfoy have always circled one another, have always been a constant in one another's lives. Malfoy was his rival since day one, and Harry was Malfoy's. This is the next natural step for them. This is what they've been moving towards the whole time. Malfoy is his, has always been his.

And so Harry is waiting. He's been trying to make sure that when he makes his move nothing will go wrong, but when he wakes in the middle of the night one December night, hard and aching, he decides he's waited long enough.

He can hear Malfoy in the next bed, his breathing soft and even. He palms his own cock through his boxers, biting back a groan. A wank just isn't going to cut it. He's jerked off more than enough recently and now he needs more. He needs to take what's his.

He glances over at Malfoy, can just see his hair illuminated by the moonlight spilling through the window between their beds.

 _Fuck it,_ he thinks. He knows what he wants. He knows what's his, and he's taking it. He's spent too long doing what others want, too much of his life being used and abused. It's his turn now.

He slips out from under his covers and moves silently across the room. The floor is cold but he ignores it; he'll be plenty warm enough soon.

Standing by the other bed, he looks down at Malfoy's sleeping form. He's on his back, white sheet pooled around his waist. He's shirtless, his perfect pink nipples just begging to be tweaked and Harry's cock twitches in anticipation. Malfoy is so pale, so untouched, and he's lying there just begging to be ruined.

Harry swallows thickly. Fuck, he wants this. He's so fucking excited. He reaches out and lifts the sheet with two fingers, sliding it slowly down and away from Malfoy's body. Malfoy is wearing dark boxes, the slight bulge of his flaccid cock just outlined under the taut fabric. Harry can't wait to make it hard. A small part of his brain reminds him Malfoy might not want _this_ , but Harry promptly tells that part to shut up, tells it that Malfoy was born to be used and would most certainly thank him for it later once Harry had convinced him what the right thing to do was.

Harry chews his lip, eyes roaming greedily over every inch of Malfoy's exposed skin, trying to decide where to start. It isn't that late, just after midnight at the most, so he has hours before either one of them are expected to be anywhere else. The thought makes his knees a little weak. This is going to be incredible. The start of their future. And Malfoy, fast asleep, his mouth hanging slightly open, has no idea.

Harry reaches out and slowly lifts one of Malfoy's arms, maneuvering it gently above his head. Just the feel of his fingers on Malfoy's wrists has his cock throbbing. He does the same with Malfoy's other arm, and then he casts a wordless _incarcerous,_ binding Malfoy's wrists together to the headboard. Malfoy sighs softly in his sleep, but he doesn't move or wake. Harry grins to himself; Malfoy obviously likes this at least a little if his body isn't even sending him warning signals.

Harry contemplates the sight in front of him again: Malfoy stretched out, only a thin piece of material separating Harry from his cock, completely unable to get away even if he wants to. Harry knows Malfoy can't do wandless magic - he made sure before today - which means he's stuck here until Harry decides to free him. Or until someone else does. That thought makes Harry cast a locking and silencing charm on the door - no need to draw anyone's attention should this get loud. He's determined to have Malfoy to himself. Now, and for however long he decides.

Harry sits down beside Malfoy, the mattress jostling Malfoy slightly as it absorbs Harry's added weight. As much as he likes the idea of taking Malfoy while he's sleeping - and he will, at some point, he's certain of that - he wants to see his expression now when he learns about his new role.

He leans forwards and drags his lips over Malfoy's jaw, inhaling the enticing, musky way he smells. He drags his tongue along the shell of Malfoy's ear, breathing hot breath into his ear.

Malfoy begins to stir, his eyes blinking open slowly.

"Harry?"

His voice is heavy with sleep, and his eyes aren't quite focused yet.

"Shh," Harry says soothingly. He cups Malfoy's cheek. "It's okay. You're okay."

Malfoy blinks again, his shoulders twitching as though to move his arms, and Harry sees the moment he wakes up properly and realises he's tied up.

"Harry, what the hell is this?" he asks, yanking at the binds. "What's going on?"

Harry traces a lazy finger across Malfoy's lips. They're so full and plump. He bets they'll do incredible things. He smiles.

"I'm giving you what you want," he says softly.

Malfoy's face is screwed up in confusion, and he tugs harshly at the restraits again. Harry loves it, loves seeing that he can't break them, can't free himself. His body is completely at Harry's mercy.

"This isn't - Harry, untie me," he says, his eyes wide. "What are you-"

Harry reaches back and palms Malfoy's cock, making Malfoy break off and gasp. He feels it twitch under his touch, the first telltale signs of arousal, and it drives Harry mad.

"See," he says, looking Malfoy in the eye. "You do want it. I know how you feel about me."

Malfoy's face is red, torn between lust and nervousness.

"You like me, don't you?" Harry asks, pressing his palm harder. Malfoy's whole body tenses, a small noise escaping his lips. He's getting harder. "Don't you?" Harry repeats, squeezing lightly.

Malfoy's breaths are coming out short and sharp. "I- yes," he admits. "You know I do, but I can't... Harry this… I'm not…"

"Shh," Harry says again. He's giddy with anticipation. He's waited so long, so patiently for this moment, and he wants to savour it, wants to enjoy every twitch of Malfoy's body, every confused expression on his face.

"I've watched you this year," Harry murmurs. He breathes the words against Malfoy's lips, not quite touching them. Malfoy is trembling slightly. "You've been so eager," he continues, "so eager to make amends for the terrible things you did."

He pulls back a little from Malfoy's face so he can look at him, and he brings his hand up and pushes his index finger into Malfoy's mouth. Malfoy's eyes widen in surprise and Harry groans at the warm, wet heat, imagining what it will feel like on his cock.

"The thing is," Harry says, "you haven't done anything to make it up to me."

He slips his finger free, and Malfoy's face pales.

"I thought... The trial, and - and we're friends now... I thought you'd… forgiven me."

Harry gives him a sad smile, and pushes two fingers back into Malfoy's mouth. "Did you?" he says softly. He pushes his fingers deeper until Malfoy gags, choking around him, and then he withdraws them.

"I don't -" Malfoy coughs, his expression confused and a little scared now. "I don't understand. What are you doing, Harry? What is this?"

Harry doesn't answer straight away. He stands and walks to the end of the bed, feeling Malfoy's nervous eyes on him as he moves. His cock is so hard, tenting his own boxers. He hopes Malfoy can see it, hopes he knows it's for him. He climbs onto the end of the bed, placing a hand on each of Malfoy's calves. He pushes Malfoy's legs apart and immediately crawls between them, letting his hands slide up Malfoy's legs, up his knees, and up to the bottom of his boxers on his thighs.

"I know how much it means to you," Harry says softly, slipping his hands beneath the fabric and teasing the skin softly, not quite moving any higher. "How badly you want my approval. You think I haven't noticed? I know how your mind works, Malfoy. I know you better than anyone."

"Harry, can we just - can you just stop, for a minute? Please. We can talk about… about whatever this is. Whatever it is you want." Malfoy is lifting his head, looking down his body at Harry, still tugging the restraints uselessly.

"If you want me to forgive you, Malfoy," Harry continues, ignoring Malfoy's comment, "then you have to earn it. And to earn it, you have to please me."

He pulls a hand up and cups Malfoy's cock through his boxers again, squeezing lightly. He's still half hard. Harry rubs at it slowly, watching Malfoy's face, watching as understanding flashes in his eyes.

"Don't you want to please me?" Harry whispers. Malfoy's cock feels so good, and Harry can tell he's loving this. Fuck, Harry can't wait to see it.

"Harry," Malfoy says, more desperately. "I've never - I can't-"

"That's not what I asked you," Harry says sharply. "Do you want me to forgive you? Do you want me to tell you the terrible things you did and the lives you ruined have been put in the past and I don't blame you for them?" He squeezes Malfoy's cock harder, loving the way it makes him wince a little. "Because I will," Harry tells him, "if I think you really mean it. But unless you're willing to show me how sorry you are, I won't. Ever."

He lets go of Malfoy's cock and raises up on his haunches, excitement thrumming through him as the next words roll off his tongue. "And wouldn't it be terrible if I didn't forgive you, and one day I let it slip to someone in the media or the Ministry? You know how much they listen to me these days, right? It's ridiculous, I know, but I wonder what they'd do to you if they found out I hadn't forgiven you. I bet the whole wizarding world would turn on you. I bet if I whispered to the right person I could even get certain rulings changed… l bet I could get you and your mother retried and locked away."

Malfoy is staring at him, looking completely horrified and a little sick. Harry decides he quite likes that look on him.

He knows what he said is true - that Malfoy craves his approval now more than anyone's. It's just how he works. He's weak and needs someone stronger to lead him, to pat him on the head and praise him, and from this moment, that's going to be Harry. Whether he agrees right now or not.

Harry stays quiet, letting Malfoy have his thoughts for a moment, letting him think he has a choice here. He doesn't, of course. If he says no, Harry will change his mind. Harry would really enjoy that, actually.

"I- what do you want me to do?" Malfoy asks, voice trembling.

Harry grins broadly. "You'll do whatever I want you to," he says. He presses his palm to Malfoy's chest and runs it across his skin, committing this moment to memory.

Malfoy swallows. "Can we please just talk about it more… before?" he asks, pleading. "I don't understand this."

"No."

Harry's getting impatient. His cock is throbbing and he wants to touch Malfoy properly. He shuffles back and slips his fingers under the waistband of Malfoy's boxers and yanks them down. His mouth waters as Malfoy's cock is freed. It's beautiful, just a smidge shorter than Harry's and thin and pink and lovely.

"Harry." Malfoy's voice is a small whisper. "Please. Don't do this. I'll leave the school if you want me to. I'll go away, I promise. Just don't… please, I don't want-"

"Look at this," Harry says, cutting him off. He takes Malfoy's still half hard cock in his hand. It slides into his palm perfectly, like it was made for Harry to hold. "You're already getting hard for me," he says. "I knew you'd be good for me. I knew you wanted to please me, wanted to do the right thing."

He gives it a few slow strokes, watching Malfoy's face. Malfoy's hips twitch slightly despite the distressed look on his face, and Harry feels triumphant. Malfoy is a liar. He wants it.

"I've been watching you all year, waiting for this," Harry sighs happily. "Waiting for the chance to give you what you want."

"Harry-"

"If you complain anymore," Harry says warningly, "I'll cast a silencing charm on you, and I really don't want to because I think you'll make the prettiest noises. So. Will you be good?"

"I don't-"

Harry slaps Malfoy's bare thigh hard. It stings his hand and makes Malfoy cry out and buck in surprise and pain.

"I said, will you be good?" Harry repeats.

"Yes," Malfoy says meekly.

Harry smiles. "Good boy."

He resumes the slow stroking of Malfoy's cock, his other hand sliding slowly up his pale body. Malfoy shudders. Harry reaches one of his nipples and gives it a rough flick. Malfoy bites his lip, so Harry tweaks it, and he bites down harder.

"Oh, you like when I touch you here," Harry says happily. He pinches harder, twisting the tiny nub painfully, and Malfoy let's out a low whining noise. "You're such a liar. There's no way you've never done this before."

He strokes Malfoy a little faster. "Look how hard you are for me. God, I bet you've fucked around so much. You're too gorgeous to be a virgin."

"I've really never-"

"Don't lie to me," Harry growls. He knows Malfoy probably isn't lying, but this game is just making Harry even more turned on. "Look at you. You have a body that begs to be fucked. How many do you think? How many thick hard cocks have you had shoved inside that tight little arsehole I know you've been hiding from me? Have you ever had one in your mouth at the same time? I bet you love that the most don't you, being filled at both ends? I bet you're a filthy little cock slut, aren't you Malfoy?"

Malfoy whimpers beneath him, but doesn't seem able to say anything.

"You're going to be _my_ filthy little cock slut now aren't you?" Harry whispers. "That's what I want, what I need from you. I need to know you're willing to do anything I say. It's the only way I can see you're really sorry, the only way I can really consider forgiving you."

Malfoy's head is turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut. Harry grips his chin and turns his head.

"Open your eyes," he commands. "Tell me."

Malfoy looks at him, fear in his eyes. He opens and closes his mouth.

"Tell me what a whore you're going to be," Harry pushes. "Tell me you're going to be my dirty little slut, so you can earn my forgiveness. So you can prove that you and your mother don't deserve to be locked away."

Harry can see the defeat in Malfoy's face. "I - I'll be your .. your dirty slut," he chokes out. "So I can earn your forgiveness." His voice shakes, and Harry groans. Christ the way it sounds to hear him say words like that.

"We should have been doing this for months," he tells Malfoy. He let's go of Malfoy's cock and climbs off the bed. Malfoy lets out a shaky breath only to suck it right back in when Harry drops his boxers and kicks them across the floor.

He takes himself in hand as he looks down at Malfoy, stroking himself just twice. If he does anymore he'll surely come; Malfoy is too fucking much.

He climbs back on the bed, straddling Malfoy. His cock rests on Malfoy's chest. He wonders if Malfoy's arms are aching yet. Harry hopes so; Malfoy would definitely enjoy that, like a proper little whore.

"You have such a pretty mouth," he says, tracing his thumb over Malfoy's bottom lip. "That's what I've watched the most this year, you know: your pretty mouth and those pretty lips."

He raises himself onto his knees and shuffles forward until his cock is hovering over Malfoy's face. Malfoy cringes as Harry holds drags it over his cheek and his lips.

"Open," he says. Malfoy swallows; he's shaking. Harry loves it. "Open your mouth, Malfoy," he says again. "Like an obedient slut. Come on."

He nudges his cock against Malfoy's lips not waiting for an answer. Malfoy resists at first, but then his mouth opens and Harry's cock slips into the hot wet cavern and he groans loudly. He twists his fingers in Malfoy's hair, urging his head up as he presses his cock further inside. Malfoy makes gagging noises as his body protests the intrusion and the lack of air. Harry holds his hair tighter, holds his head in place, and savours the feeling of Malfoy's lips _finally_ wrapped around his cock.

Malfoy sounds like he's struggling to breathe, arms pulling uselessly at his restraints. It's like music to Harry's ears. He waits another moment, to let Malfoy's fear last a little longer, and then pulls his cock free. Malfoy gasps, coughing as he sucks in great gulps of air.

"God, Malfoy, your mouth," Harry says admiringly. "My cock could live in there. It's so perfect."

He lines himself up again and waits this time for Malfoy to be obedient, and he's thrilled when he opens up without being told. Harry presses in again, but not as far this time.

"Suck it," he murmurs. "Make me come, you fucking slag."

Malfoy tries; it's a little awkward and he's mostly unskilled, but Harry doesn't care. He'll train him in time. For now, he relishes in watching Malfoy's mouth stretch wide around him, trying so hard to be the good little slut Harry knows he is.

Harry's orgasm approaches him ridiculously fast. It builds up quickly at the base of his spine and he knows he can't hold off, so he pulls out of Malfoy's mouth without warning and wanking himself the last of the way there. He comes in long, hot, white stripes, coating Malfoy's chin and mouth and cheeks. Malfoy jerks his head in surprise, but Harry ignores him, riding out the last waves of pleasure.

He lets out a content sigh and looks down at his handy work, at Malfoy covered in his spunk with his hair ruffled and his breathing still shaky. It's the perfect picture. He runs his softening cock over Malfoy's lips one more time before shuffling back down the bed and sitting on Malfoy's legs.

"Look at you," Harry says reverently. "You're so fucking gorgeous, and you're all mine."

He hears the possessive edge to his voice. He's never been a possessive person before, but he knows it will be different with Malfoy. He needs to control Malfoy as badly as Malfoy needs someone to control him.

Malfoy seems to slump further into the mattress, his eyes falling closed again. He looks relieved.

"I hope you don't think we're done," Harry muses, and Malfoy's eyes snap open again. "Oh, no. That was just the warm up."

It'll take him probably ten minutes before he can get hard again, but there's plenty he can do with Malfoy in ten minutes. Harry lifts up so he's hovering over Malfoy's legs.

"Open your legs for me," Harry tells him, and God it really is the biggest fucking thrill of his life when Malfoy listens. His legs fall open and Harry inserts himself between them. Malfoy's cock has wilted, but Harry will fix that.

Malfoy's face is flushed even darker red as Harry stares shamelessly at his cock, as he runs his fingers over Malfoy's balls, learning the shape of them.

"Hey," Harry says gently. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. As long as you do what you're told I'll take good care of you. I promise." He rolls Malfoy's balls in his hand as he talks. "We're going to work so well together, you and me. This is going to be a beautiful thing."

Something seems to snap in Malfoy and his face contorts into a look of sudden rage.

"You're mad," he hisses. "This is- this is fucked up, Harry. You've gone mad and you need help. What you're saying isn't normal."

A small amount of insolence is normal, Harry supposes, but he'll stamp that out soon enough. Malfoy probably still thinks he'll find a way out of this. Harry smiles at him again.

"You know," he says conversationally. "People have this idea about me, that I'm not that smart." He shrugs. "Maybe not, but I was nearly put in Slytherin for a reason. I know how to plot. And I've been planning this for weeks, Malfoy. Been planting seeds."

He takes Malfoy in hand again, tugging gently as he talks to make him hard again.

"A few well placed comments here and there were enough to make enough people notice how you look at me," he tells Malfoy. "And obviously, those same people then wanted to know if I felt the same way." He chuckles darkly. "I've been very kind about you, told them that I didn't but I didn't want to hurt your feelings, told them that the war was behind us and that just because we had a past it didn't mean I wanted to be cruel. I even told them about how I went to McGonagall and said I needed advice on how to handle it– said I was nervous to talk to you, because a few comments you made had me thinking you wouldn't handle the rejection well. That you might have anger issues left over from the war."

"I've never done anything like that," Malfoy protests.

"Well, I know that," Harry says. "But they don't. McGonagall even offered to have you moved from this room, you know. Just to be safe. I declined and said I'd keep on eye on you, would offer you support. I told her how you sometimes lie to get my attention, and I wanted to try and help you build up some more self esteem. She was so proud of how maturely I was handling an awkward situation with you, she said. Then she told me to go to her if anything happens that makes me uncomfortable."

Malfoy is staring at him with his mouth agape.

"So you see," Harry says. "You won't be telling anyone about this, or saying that I need help, or anything like that at all, because they'll all think you're lying. No one will believe your word over mine, and I _will_ make good on my threat about Azakaban. If not for Death Eater charges, then I'm sure I can convince enough people that your unwelcome advances have gone too far."

He leans over Malfoy and runs his tongue up Malfoy's stomach, up his chest. He laps at his nipple, nips it once, and then hovers his face over Malfoy's.

"This is our private arrangement," he whispers. "Your private way of making it up to me, and I promise you will learn to love it. You'll want to be good for me, to have me control you. I really don't want to threaten you with all these things, but I just need to make sure you're going to continue to obey me. As long as you do, we won't have any problems. And once I'm convinced, once you've proved how remorseful you are, we'll stop."

Malfoy is looking at him with an expression of pure fear. Harry's cock twitches again with renewed interest.

He was going to make Malfoy hitch his legs up to his chest, but he changes his mind. Without warning or waiting for him to comment on what he's just learned, he flips Malfoy onto his stomach, arms twisting over one another where they're bound.

"Perfect," he hums.

Malfoy's arse is now right in front of him, the two perfect, pale globes begging for Harry to touch them. He runs his hand over the curve of one cheek, admiring the way the lovely flesh dimples at his touch while Malfoy clenches.

"No protests?" Harry asks as he bring his other hand up to cup both cheeks.

"Will it make a difference?" Malfoy's muffled voice asks.

Harry grins. Oh, his little slut is a fast learner.

He kneads the flesh of Malfoy's arse in his hands - it's so fucking beautiful - and then he pulls Malfoy's cheeks apart, sucking in a breath when he finally sees Malfoy's hole. It's so pink and tiny and looks fucking _edible._

The rest of his body is tense, and so Harry decides he'll help him relax. He leans forward and presses a kiss to one of Malfoy's cheeks, and then he drags his tongue along the crevice of his arse. Malfoys whole body jerks away.

"Harry wait," he says, pleading again. Terrified. "I can't. I thought… I thought I could, if it would keep you from getting me in trouble but... but you're scaring me, and I can't do this. I'm not -"

The words are an annoying, jumbled mess of desperation, and Harry casts a wordless silencing charm to cut them off.

"I did warn you," Harry says. "Your only aim here is to please me, not to annoy me with chatter. I've warned you what will happen if you don't. I really can't be any more clear about how this is going to work, Malfoy. You either do as I say and try to prove to me you're sorry and obedient, or you don't and you suffer the consequences. Now," he says. "Get up on your knees."

Beneath him, Malfoy's body shudders. Harry wonders if he's crying. He isn't thrashing about or trying to buck Harry away, which is a good sign. It means he's listening, means he's putting what Harry asks for before his own selfish wants.

There's a moment of pause, and then Malfoy shifts, pulling his knees beneath him awkwardly, until his arse is up in the air, ready and waiting to be used by Harry. His face is pressed into his pillow. Harry doesn't bother to check if his eyes are open or not. He doesn't care right now.

Harry pulls Malfoy's cheeks apart again. He leans in and finishes licking a path from his crack down to his furled hole. When he reaches the clenched pink opening, he licks around it and over it. He goes slowly at first, warming Malfoy's body up to the intrusion it's about to face.

"I think you'll like this," he tells Malfoy. "I think you'll be begging me for more, like a needy whore. I'm going to take the silencing charm off now, because I want to hear you."

He lifts the charm at the same moment he jabs his tongue forward, pressing it into that tight little ring of muscle.

Malfoy's back arches and he makes a high, whining noise. Harry grips his cheeks tighter, forcing them further apart. He digs his fingers in roughly. He hopes it's hard enough to bruise. He'd love to see Malfoy covered in marks, covered in the evidence of what Harry is allowed to do to him.

Harry flicks his tongue teasingly before forcing the tight muscles to yield slowly by charging his way further inside Malfoy's arse bit by bit, swirling and stabbing his tongue eagerly.

When he pulls back he has a grin on his face. God Malfoy tastes good. He spits in Malfoy's hole to wet it a little more, and then without warning, pushes his index finger inside instead.

Malfoy cries out, trying to jerk forward, but Harry holds him steady with his free hand.

"Easy," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Malfoy's hip. He crooks his finger a little, trying to stretch Malfoy further. "You're doing so well. You really like this, I can tell," Harry praises him. He pulls his finger in and out slowly, watching intently each time it disappears back inside Malfoy's body. That will be his cock soon. He trembles at the thought.

Malfoy is slowly loosening up. He's definitely not wet enough, but it'll have to do for now; when he's had a bit more practice at this, when he's been good for Harry, he'll get rewarded with things like lube.

Harry pulls his finger out and spits again, watching as it slides down Malfoy's crack. He uses his hand to smear it over his hole, and then he presses two fingers in, up to the first knuckle.

Malfoy jerks a little again, but he's silent this time. Harry doesn't like him not participating.

"Push back," he demands. "Fuck yourself on my fingers. I want you to work that pretty cunt open for me."

"Harry." Malfoy is definitely sobbing, his voice choked. "Please."

"Are you begging me for more?" Harry asks.

Malfoy's head shakes. "No, I-"

Harry brings his hand down swiftly on Malfoy's arse, slapping him so hard it makes his hand tingle. Malfoy screams, yanking violently at his binds. Harry can hear him panting, but he doesn't make another sound of protest. Harry's red hand print stands out vibrantly against Malfoy's pale skin, and Harry makes a note of that for future reference when he needs punishment options.

He twists his fingers. "Move," he says.

Malfoy does as he's told. He pushes back slowly, his arse greedily swallowing Harry's fingers. He sets a slow pace, obviously trying not to hurt himself. Harry doesn't like that Malfoy thinks he gets to make that kind of call.

"Faster," Harry commands. "Harder."

Malfoy whimpers, but his hips pick up speed. It's fucking sinful, watching him impale himself so eagerly on Harry's hand like this.

"Gorgeous," Harry whispers. He reaches around Malfoy and finds his mostly soft cock, and he starts tugging on it in time with Malfoy's thrusts. "I'm going to get you hard," he promises, "and you're going to come with my cock in your arse."

A sob wracks through Malfoy's body, but his slowly hardening cock tells Harry everything he needs to know. Malfoy wouldn't get hard if didn't really want it.

Harry adds a third finger, not slowing his hand as it pumps Malfoy's cock. His finger meets resistance, but he pushes through it. Malfoy's hips stutter, and Harry is ready to tell him off again, but then he resumes his thrusts.

"Good boy," he purrs.

Harry is achingly hard. His cock is dripping, begging for attention. Fuck it, he thinks. Malfoy is ready enough. He pulls his fingers free, and lines himself up at once. He's not waiting any longer. Malfoy is tense again, and Harry can tell he wants to say something, but he keeps quiet, and Harry's very proud of him.

He nudges the head of his cock against Malfoy's hole. He grips Malfoy's hips tightly, and then he presses forward, slipping inside slowly. He groans loudly at the same time Malfoy makes a pained noise as the last of the protesting muscle gives in and Harry is finally, _finally_ completely sheathed inside Malfoy's perfect, tight little arse.

He takes a moment to just feel it, to savour this - his first time having Malfoy. This is just the beginning for them, and right now he wants nothing more than to fuck Malfoy raw, to fill him up with his come and know that it's because he's in control, that Malfoy is his to use.

"You're so fucking tight," he breathes out.

Malfoy's body is trembling around him. Harry pulls out slowly, loving the way Malfoy's arse clings to his cock, grips it tightly like it doesn't want to let him go, and then he thrusts back in quickly. Malfoy yelps. Harry ignores him.

He reaches around as he thrusts quickly and begins to stroke Malfoy's cock again. The room is full of the sounds of Harry's grunts and the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin. It's so good - it's _too_ good - and for the second time tonight, Harry won't last long. He's already making plans in his head for what they'll do next, what other ways he can take ownership of Malfoy's body.

"You love this, you whore," Harry gasps between thrusts. "God, you're such a slut, such a dirty fucking slut."

Malfoy's cock pulses in his hand - he's going to come. Harry knows Malfoy's inexperienced and has someone tugging at his cock, and that those things are probably part of the reason Malfoy is on the edge of orgasm even though he thinks he doesn't want to be, but he also knows some part deep down in Malfoy does want this, wants Harry to force it out of him. He tugs harder, faster, and then feels Malfoy's arsehole clenching around him, feels his body tensing, and the hot spill of come coats Harry's fingers.

"Fuck yes," Harry moans, coaxing the last spurts from him. "I knew it, I knew you wanted to come with my dick fucking your cunt, you filthy whore."

He starts to pump his hips quickly. He reaches forward as he moves and wipes his sticky fingers over Malfoy's face, and then digs his fingers back into Malfoy's hips as his orgasm tears through him. He empties himself with a violent shudder inside of Malfoy, yelling out loudly.

Christ, but that was everything he'd known it would be, he thinks as he pants heavily.

He doesn't pull out of Malfoy right away, enjoying the feel of his cock softening inside Malfoy's spent hole while his high recedes.

When he slips out, he immediately replaces his cock with two fingers. Malfoy groans uncomfortably as Harry presses in as deep as he can, his spunk squelching as Harry fingers Malfoy slowly. Harry watches, mesmerised, as a dribble of it slips out and trickles down Malfoy's thighs. When Harry pulls out he wipes up the rest of the come that follows, gathering it in his hand and smearing it over his fingers.

"Turn over," he says.

Malfoy moves slowly, like he's aching. Harry waits patiently; just this first time, he'll allow a little slowness.

When Malfoy is on his back, Harry gazes down at him. His face is a mess of tears and snot and come, his eyes red rimmed and pained. Harry smiles at how beautiful he looks. He reaches out and presses the two fingers he'd used in Malfoy's arse into his mouth.

"Clean them," he says gently.

Malfoy's lips, looking red and sore from where he'd evidently been biting down on them, seal around him, tongue lapping clean the mess Harry is giving him.

"That was good," Harry tells him. "Not great," he lies, "but you'll learn."

He pulls his fingers free and wordlessly releases the binds restraining Malfoy. He drags the pad of his thumb over one of Malfoy's nipples as Malfoy lowers his arms slowly, eyes on Harry. He rubs at his reddened wrists and he swallows thickly.

"So it's… it's going to happen again?" he asks.

"Oh yes," Harry assures him. He runs a hand down Malfoy's cheek, smearing the mess on his face, making sure it covers his skin, his lips. "You're mine now, Malfoy, for as long as it takes for me to be able to look at you and not be disgusted by what you've done."

Harry silently delights in the secret knowledge that he most certainly won't be letting Malfoy go. He'll just work much harder if he thinks he has a goal, something to work towards.

"Trust me," Harry tells him. "You _do_ want this, it's the right thing to do, and the faster you embrace it and give me what I ask for, the easier it'll be for both of us each time."

He trails his hand down Malfoy's body. Malfoy's cock is limp against his leg. Harry holds it in his palm and squeezes it, watching Malfoy's face as he flinches.

"I'm going to cast a body bind on you now," Harry tells him. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you when I'm ready for you again, and then we'll talk about how this is going to work. I don't think you'll risk your or your mother's freedom by telling anyone about this, but I need to make sure."

"Can I - canI at least clean up?" Malfoy asks.

Harry chuckles. "No," he says. "You're going to wake up smelling me on you, sticky and filthy, the way you always should be."

He presses a kiss to Malfoy's forehead. "Sleep," he says again. "No one is coming for you, and we have all the time in the world."


End file.
